A Family Reunion
by SecretsIWontShare
Summary: Skyfall/Sherlock Crossover The Holmes family and dates meet at MI6 for a less than relaxing get together
1. Meet Our Brother

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters (except Bartolio Ramboni and Carter) the rights go to the BBC and Sony, or who ever own James Bond. No Yaoi, but Johnlock is a pairing in this fic. If this bothers you (for whatever reason) stop reading now.

John was never expecting he would get a nice quiet afternoon. What, actually able to get stuff done? Drink tea in the quiet without being interrupted by a case or one of Sherlock's experiments? This was relatively unheard of. But just this once, just for a little while, John got that. For a little bit.

"John, get your coat." Sherlock walked into the apartment, still on the phone with someone.

"Yes, I heard you, Mycroft. Yes, he's getting ready right now, I'll be out in a bloody second- come on John!" Sherlock shouted.

"Just a moment I need to find my…" Sherlock grabbed him by the coat.

"We don't have the time, and you won't need a phone where we're going." Sherlock pulled him down the stairs and onto the curb just as a sleek, black car was pulling up. The door was pushed open from the inside.

"Get in." the familiar voice of Mycroft Holmes chirped from within. The boys climbed in and sat across from Mycroft and Anthea, who was playing with her phone, like usual.

"Hello." She acknowledged them with a quick smile and a peek up from her phone.

"Are you ready?" Mycroft tilted his head and looked at Sherlock.

"If I said no would I be able to leave?" Sherlock was quick to respond with only the very slightest bit of boredom and frustration.

"Once a year, that was the deal. Once a year you visit them and then they leave you alone all 364 other days." Mycroft rolled his eyes. Sherlock "humph"ed in reply.

"It's really not that bad, Sherlock! Why must you always make such a big deal out of this?" Mycroft was getting fed up with his little brother's attitude.

"Um, excuse me? Where are we going?" John felt like he was watching a tennis match, just back and forth and back and forth.

"Once a year mother requires that we visit her and our younger brother at their workplace and say hello, what not." Mycroft replied. "And today is that day."

John turned to Sherlock. "You're mum? What, does she own a shop of some sort?"

Sherlock smiled. "Of a sort."

The car pulled up to a group of guards with large guns and army uniforms.

"Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes on visit with two guests." Mycroft handed the young guard a paper and they were waved though. After a quick security scan, they entered.

"Sherlock, this is no shop." John said, staring with wide eyes at the screens and computers and people around him.

"Welcome to MI6, John Watson. The underground of British government." Sherlock wasn't fazed by all these things, neither was Mycroft or Anthea. They had obviously done this before. But John was caught, mouth agape, looking around like a child in a sweet shop. Through hallways and rooms, the brothers winded through the center like they had maps in their heads. Sherlock's eyes darted to every screen and face, memorizing and filing every fact he obtained with his observations. Mycroft was only thinking of the argument that would follow this meeting.

Behind a large glass door lay a room of men and women rushing between monitors and computers. Numbers were everywhere, and papers flew like birds. At the very end of the room, at a large table with touch screens and monitors stood a tall, slender man with hipster glasses, a tie, and a knit red sweater.

"Hello Ma-"the man turned around to face Mycroft, who had spoken.

"Q! They call me Q! Do you want me to get killed?" there was fear and surprise in the man's eyes. He way in his early twenties, very slim, and looked just the Holmes brothers.

"Q. I forgot. You're a big shot spy now." Mycroft put a hand of his shoulder. "How have you been, little brother?"

Q rubbed his shoulder where Mycroft had grabbed him. "Well enough, I guess. I don't see a lot of action other than hacking but, it's a nice position." He looked at Sherlock. "Hello Sherlock."

The taller man nodded. "Hello Q." He walked over to the table where Q had been standing before he saw his brothers. "What the hell are you doing?"

The table was just one giant touch screen with numbers, photos, and documents running across it. It was some sort of incredibly long and complex code. It must have made sense to the brothers, because Sherlock immediately started moving and swiping numbers into different places.

"Hey!" Q jumped in, pushing Sherlock's hands off the board. "I have been working for months on this code, don't you dare mess it up."

"You did it wrong! Can't you see that this set has to be replaced by this in order to…" he started moving a few pieces, which John and Mycroft were able to watch because the contents of the video table were broadcast on the video wall in front of the table. A moment later, a large message popped onto the screen.

ACSESS GRANTED

"Well, would you look at that." Q stepped back. "Way to go, Shirley. You broke the first real code I was assigned. How does it feel to outsmart everyone ever for the, what, 100th time?" Q was obviously shocked, and a wee bit jealous, but either had enough experience with his brother showing off or just didn't care anymore.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to finish this now that our dear brother hacked the computer of MI6's most wanted. Mother's office is upstairs; you know where to find it." Q turned his back on the company and started his coding and cyphering. Mycroft shot a dirty look at Sherlock, who shrugged it off and started walking. They all headed for a white and chrome elevator with one button on it. Anthea hit the button, and they ascended. Because the back of the elevator was all glass, John could see the entire city. Within a minute, the elevator stopped and opened. The passengers disembarked into a white office, with several cubical and people running about, much like below. At the end of this room lay a door with a card scanner of sorts on the side. Mycroft slipped a card out of his pocket and put it thru the scanner, which flashed green and with a 'click' allowed them access. Inside was a large desk, with a huge window behind it. On the desk lay stacks of paper, a laptop, and a china pug with a Union Jack painted across it. A short, stout woman sat behind the desk, her fingers clasped and a scowl on her face.

"Hello boys." She stated. This was no kind greeting, but this wasn't shocking, especially if she was related to Sherlock.


	2. Mother's House

"Hello mother. Or must we call you but you're codename, M? Like we have to with our own brother?" Sherlock wasn't in the best mood, but he almost sounded sad. Like not being able to call his brother by his name upset him.

"We are in a business that deals with the world's most dangerous people every bloody day and you think you can just go around, saying names? I'm taking a risk even letting you in here. Much less you let anyone know our relation or names." She stood. "But then again you never were one for confidentiality. Always posting about you're crimes online, boasting about how clever you are. You're lucky someone hasn't tried to kill you yet."

"People have tried to kill me, mother."

"And good for them! That should teach you to be a little less public about everything!" she turned to Mycroft. "And you let people get close enough to your little brother for him to almost get killed?"

"W-well, I can't stop e-every bloody idiot in E-England, mother." Mycroft was suddenly nervous and even had a stutter.

"Oh, shut up! The both of you!" M crossed her arms, and looked at John and Anthea. "Who are these other people?"

"This is my assistant, Anthea." Mycroft gestured to the lovely Anthea, who even put away her phone in M's presence.

"Hello, ma'am." She extended her hand to M, who just looked at her.

"Is she your girlfriend?" M looked at Mycroft.

"Um, no mum, she's just my assistant." Mycroft looked at his shoes.

"Hmm, disappointing." M looked Anthea up and down, and then turned to Sherlock. "And who is this young man?"

"Mother, this is my boyfriend, John Watson." Sherlock had his hands clasped behind his back to hide how much they were shaking with nerves. What if she didn't like John? Or that her son was gay?

"Hello." He extended his hand.

"Iraq or Afghanistan?" she asked.

"Iraq ma'am." He was used to this kind of thing from Sherlock, and it only made sense that his mother could read people like a book as well.

"Interesting. Well, I swear if you break my son's heart, I will send my best trained killer to assassinate you." M said this with a completely straight face.

"Um, u-understood, ma'am." John was taken aback.

"Well, with that all squared away let's…" M was cut off by a man rushing into the office.

"M. You're needed in Q's bay. Something's happened." The man seemed out of breath.

"What do you mean Carter?" M walked briskly to the man.

"I don't know. He said he got thru the code an hour ago and now the code was redirected. It's Him." Carter looked desperate and even M lost the colour in her face.

"Go. We'll follow." M turned to the company. "Looks like you'll get to see some action for once."

They all headed back to the elevator, and ended up back in Q's office. It was even more chaotic than before, people rushing and yelling and handing off papers. Q was at the head, speaking into an earpiece.

"Dammit James, keep going! No, left, LEFT. There should be a door, open, keep going." He tuned to see his family. "Sherlock, I need you."

Sherlock approached the table, as well as Mycroft. Q handed the earpiece to Mycroft.

"See that map? Ok, the red blip's our guy, guide him thru to the blue square, got it?" Q instructed quickly.

"Yes." Mycroft hooked the piece to his ear. "James? Yes, hello, Mycroft here, Q's busy. Now, I need you to turn to your right and continue down until…" Mycroft wander to get closer to the map and started to type on a computer.

"Sherlock, you know your codes, right? Ok, just help me to block out this server, because if this code makes it to our main hard-drive…" he trailed off, and stalked over to another computer.

"If it makes it thru what?" Sherlock demanded.

"Boom!" Q gestured wildly with his hands. "Just keep recoding! The main-face changes every two minutes, so just keep adjusting." He picked up a phone, while speaking with Anthea.

"Listen, Anthea. I need you to contact the lower division, tell them we have a code 11." He typed a number into the phone. "Go!"

"Q, we have a problem." Mycroft beckoned for Q. "There's no way thru."

The entire room went still. A voice came through the intercom, breathless and terrified.

"The… the door's jammed! I can't move it I… I'm so sorry I failed you." The agent was audibly scarred. There was little time before their foes caught whatever was left of the young agent.

"No!" Q slammed his hands into the table. His mind was racing with plans and puzzles, trying to figure this out. "Hit the door again, please, just give it one more try."

Every eye in the room was focused on the screen. The sound of shoulder-on-metal and the weak grunts of a desperate operative filled the unstable silence, causing echoes to chill the entire center. One second, two, several tries and no avail. There were faint gunshots, and time was as thin as wind.

The door screeched open. Whoops and celebration burst out and were quickly flattened by Q and Mycroft's commands.

"Excellent! Now, you will see a large cabinet-like structure, open it and look for…" Mycroft continued to give commands to the agent, as someone walked in.

No one noticed him come in, even though each one had seen his face. He was Bartolio Ramboni, the man they had all been hunting for years. 25 years old and handsome as a model, he made billions with organized crime, human trafficking, and scandalizing the highest families in Britain.

"So, this is how you found me." He announced as he stood behind Q.


	3. A Spider's Web

The room went quiet again in shock and looked. Q and Sherlock stopped coding, Mycroft stopped giving directions, and Anthea dropped her phone. The world stopped. Q looked up at the screen before him, spinning with maps and numbers. This was his life's work, and entire human worth spent on impressing his brothers and mother and proving he was just as brilliant as them. Now he was caught between his work and the man it was spent to destroy. He heard the click of a gun being pressed to his head, of a bullet in its place.

"Do you like my web, Bartolio? I made it for you." His voice didn't quake, he didn't move, only his fingers moved, taping out something in Morse code most like.

"Yes, it's very lovely. For a whole month, Mr. Q, a _month_, you actually had me scarred." Bartolio clicked the gun. "But I don't have to worry about that anymore, do I?"

"I wouldn't be so sure." John Watson spoke up. Everyone had forgotten about the quiet boyfriend who had let the situation so far slip past. He was no holding a gun to Bartolio's head.

"How the fuck did you get a gun into MI6?!" Bartolio looked at John with an expression of exasperation and shock.

John shrugged "I have my ways." The entire situation would have been incredibly humorous had lives not been at stake.

"I am warning you, if you lay one finger on that man I will have no choice but to shoot you dead right here and now." John's hand shook a little bit, but his voice was strong.

The voice of the operative was back. "It's done. The computer is destroyed. All the data, gone, dead."

"It's over, Bartolio. You're done." Q still didn't look at Bartolio, but _hell_ he wanted to see the look on his face.

"Am I?" he asked "Is this really how you wanted me to go down? No in a violent death, not with your gun pressed to my head?"

"No. But in my puzzle, Bart. This is what I wanted to see." Q turned to face him, a smirk on his face. "And now, you're done for. Done!" this last word shook the entire group, reverberating off the walls into an undistinguishable echo.

Bart's face calmed, and he looked at his gun, eyebrows arched.

"Well." Two shots were fired. All anyone saw was Bartolio's body crumple, one shot.

"What the hell?" M asked, looking for the other shot.

That's when everyone saw the blood coming from Sherlock's leg.


	4. a final blow

He had been shot in the leg once, just above knee. He crashed to the ground, gripping Mycroft and trying to stay up. John rushed to him.

"Oh god, oh _god_…" john looked at the wound. The bullet was lodged in his femur, likely never to leave. The bleeding was only getting worse, and there was no way of stopping it.

"It's ok…johns, calm down, you're crying…" Sherlock was breathless and shocked.

"Am I?" john smiled a bit and whipped at his eyes. He was indeed crying. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have to if your family wasn't always in so much bloody trouble."

Sherlock was slipping in and out of consciousness all the way to the medic station. Bart was dead, so Sherlock was of the upmost importance. The family, John, and Anthea waited as the surgery began.

"You really care about my son don't you?" M spoke up, not showing any emotion.

"Yes ma'am, I really do, he..." john broke off. "He means the world to me."

M nodded. "This was never anything I expected, for Sherlock to find someone. Especially a man. But, I can't be too picky can I?" M smiled. "I'm just glad he picked you."

4 and a half hour later, the surgeon emerged from the OR with glad news. Sherlock was fine, awake, and demanding coffee. A good sign. John walked in to see Sherlock, dazed and confused, but much better. A quick talk with the nurse said he could go home at the end of the day.

EPILOAUGE

(Would someone please do a fan art of John and Sherlock as cane buddies and PM it to me? Please?)

John helped Sherlock walk to the taxi cab with his new cane. Sherlock hated the limp and john, with experience in this field, helped him get used to it. Several good days passed before they spoke about MI6 in 221b.

"Um, so you're mum…" john sipped his tea.

"Yes?"

"Was she serious when she said that if I broke your heart that she would send someone to kill me?"

"oh, no of course not."

"good."

"I'm afraid she would do it herself."

"wait, what?"

**_THE END_**


End file.
